Benefit brownies

Kicking off this whole brownie thing at the farmers' market today, I can't help but go back to opening my catering business. It took three years! Of course, I couldn't wait patiently to be ready or have the kitchen finished or figure out what I was doing. I'm a leaper, so I leaped. Chaos. Expenses. Mistakes. Misunderstandings. Too much staff. Too little staff. More expenses. Why is it that I remember it all so fondly? Probably mostly because my feet don't hurt anymore and I'm not pulling any all-nighters.

Starting again, my leaps aren't quite as energetic as they were in my youth. Energy doesn't inspire action, but meaning does. Did I ever take time to look for meaning back then? I just wanted to matter, to feel successful.

I remember around the beginning of this millennium, I would say, with a chuckle, that all my dreams came true too early in my life, and now that I'd reached them all, I didn't know what to do with myself. That changed as fortunes came and went. I still believe I had an excellent youth, but I grew new dreams.

My new dreams are shaped by my experiences, by the people who've touched me and inspired me and made my heart ache. My new dreams are huge. They require spiritual connection and wisdom and commitment to mankind and the planet and the universe. And they're very small. They involve one hot meal for one stranger, and another, and another. Strangers who become people, people who become friends, friends who become the moments in a lifetime that matter.

After selling lots of brownies at the farmers' market and having people express enthusiasm for this project, I got to go deliver hot food to a meal for homeless folks in downtown Portland. I recognized a few folks from last time I was there, and was sorry that I couldn't stay and visit. I want to know these people's stories! At least we had leftover brownies and I got to laugh and say, "Take two; they're huge!"

I don't need to matter so much anymore. But, oh, those moments marked by friends, I do treasure those.